| Got a drop on this flexin' nigga, he from Tennessee
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| I had a thot, she be with the shit, she told me where he be
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| I said for sure, baby let me know if you wanna eat
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| She like Von, «You already know, just put your girl on fleek»
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| I’m like, «Cool, I can do that, boo, what, you want some shoes?»
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| «Jimmy Choo? |
| With a handbag, too? |
| Red or baby blue?»
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| She get to smilin', she ain’t used to this 'cause she ain’t used to shit
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| I’m just laughin', coulda been a pimp the way I move my lips
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| I be speedin', coulda been a driver the way I push the whip
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| You a ho, coulda been a bitch the way you throw a fit
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| But fuck that, right back to the script 'cause this a major lick
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| He got bricks, plus his neck is icy and it match his wrist
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| Now its like six, told her hit his phone, meet her in The Wic
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| But he ain’t go, but he ain’t that slow, say meet 'im at the store
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| I’m like cool, let 'im front his move, do what he gon' do
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| 'Cause this the plot, put 'em in the pot, let it cook like stew
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| I grab my Glock, it been through a lot, but it still shoot like new
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| We at the top, yeah we lost a lot, but that just how it go
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| But check the score, if y’all lose one more, that’s 6−24
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| Let me focus, can’t be zoning out, he pullin' up now
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| He double park, he ain’t getting out, he in that push to start
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| That new Porsche, it’s built like a horse, colors like the fourth
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| He got a ring, I guess he ain’t divorce, wife probably a whore
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| Now she walk up, she struttin' her stuff, this bitch thick as fuck
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| Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip, he cuffin' her butt
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| Now I sneak up crouching like a tiger, like Snoop off The Wire
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| Block on fire, so I take precaution, mask on, Michael Myers
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| I’m on his ass, he finna be mad, he gon' beat her ass
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| But this what happen, I got to the door, I thought I was cappin'
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| I was lacking, 'cause there go the opps, yellin' out, «What's crackin'?»
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| I’m like, «What?"I'm like, «Nigga who?"I was born to shoot
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| I got aim, I’m like Johnny Dang when it comes to chains
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| So I rise, hit one in his arm, hit one in his thigh, this no lie
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| Bitch it’s do or die, you said you gon' slide
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| You got some nerve, your shit on the curb, boy we put in work
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| From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd
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| (Bitch we not from 63rd
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| This the game, put in work) |